


Working Out Looks Good On You

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, hot and sweaty aaron, post-gym shag, you get the picture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: Robert's working from home and stressed, then Aaron comes home from having been boxing at the gym. He's hot and sweaty and begins to strip and Robert can't get enough.





	Working Out Looks Good On You

He’s moved three times during this phonecall. Pacing, others might call it, but he’s flat out denied that he _ever_ “paces”, straight to Aaron’s face (they had a row about how irritating it is, actually) so this is categorically _not_ pacing. But he has to move during this call, he has to walk from bedroom, down the stairs, into the kitchen, around the lounge and then back to the kitchen, or else he’ll be throwing the phone across the room until the body of it shatters. He just does. Because of them. Those small brained pen pushers and clients on the other end who are slaves to their computer screens. Whatever happened to favours and exceptions?

It’s not his morning. He escaped the scrapyard to work from home because Jimmy and Nicola were having an ear-splitting argument and he heard far too much about this supposed sex-ban they’re trialling ( _“She won’t even let me…you know…sort myself out!”_ Jimmy’s eyes were pleading and Robert’s soul was dying). He’d half-hoped Aaron would be home when he got in, even if it was just to have someone else to vent to, someone to listen or roll their eyes. And it was stupid really, but he liked the simple pleasure of being able to have lunch together, even to sit in comparative silence and hum with that ease that they’d forged so early on in their relationship. He’d thrown him a quick _Where are you?_ text before four more fruitless conversations with Home James clients.

He really needs to let off some steam.

“Look,” he says, fingernails digging into the bridge of his nose as he descends the stairs. He tries to keep the sighs out of his voice – and it’s a good thing they can’t see the temper flaring in every jaw-crack – but he’s about three seconds from calling the administrator a moron. “I know you’re pushed for time, but guess what? So am I. I’ve already had this conversation with your colleague about an hour ago and at risk of repeating myself for the third time can you _please_ sign the contract before three and have them emailed back to me?”

He doesn’t need the contracts until the end of the week but they don’t need to know that – in fact it’s better if they don’t. He’d never see the contracts otherwise.

He’s at the foot of the stairs, bracing himself for more excuses and to be put on hold again when he hears the key in the front door and watches Aaron walk through, carrying a gym bag in one hand and an empty bottle of water in another. On the phone, the office sounds dull away as Robert’s focus falls apart, tracking Aaron’s stride straight towards the kitchen sink. He watches Aaron dump his bag on the floor, unzipping his hoodie and balling it on the sofa, leaving him stood in just a sleeveless t-shirt and joggers. Robert barely notices the brief acknowledgement Aaron gives him, the quick nod of the head – he’s not even sure if he responds – staring dumbly on. Aaron’s not exactly a gym bunny and their paths have rarely crossed after a session, what with Robert tied up with work and Aaron using a quiet afternoon at the yard to slip away, but the sight of him post work out makes Robert lose his mind.

Robert knows his lips have parted, his breaths heavier, dark and shallow in the pit of his chest. Aaron’s grey shirt is loose where he’s stretched it, but the damp heat of his body makes it cling across his torso when he moves. When he stands at the sink, he cups water to his mouth, pushing a wet hand through the front of his wavy hair and taking open-mouthed gasps of obvious relief and letting droplets course from his lips to his throat. For a man that spends most of his days under layers of black clothes, his arms are more tanned than they have right to be, tight over-worked muscles clenching as he leans against the counter.  

Down the other end of the phone, Robert’s vaguely away of a voice saying: “Mr Sugden…Mr Sugden?”

He watches on as Aaron strips of his top and tosses it to the floor in the direction of their concealed washing machine. From where Robert stands he’s blurry eyed with want – the dip of Aaron’s spine, the glimpse of muscle moving under his shoulder blades, the way his exerted body seems to tremble with heat and power and masculinity. He’s been boxing again, Robert can just feel it in the air. The flicker of his biceps on a comedown. He knows how they feel under his hands, that faint tremor under the surface, he knows what it’s like to put his mouth there, to watch them tense above him.

“Something’s come up…” Robert says hazily to the administrator on the phone, knowing he would have berated them to tears by now if Aaron hadn’t walked in. But there’s no chance in hell he can concentrate like this. He burns with it. Robert ends the call without even arranging a follow up.

Robert throws his phone onto the sofa, hearing what feels like the thud of his body against the low thrum of the running tap. Aaron drinks from a glass this time and turns, giving Robert full sight of his bare chest and the pulse of his throat when he swallows, stray water reddening his mouth when he finishes quenching his thirst, drips glittering the centre of his chest.

“What?” Aaron says, wiping the back of his mouth. His hair-stuck forehead creases and he folds his muscled arms across his smooth torso.

“ _’What?’_ Don’t give me that…you know what,” Robert says, rearing up close to him, close enough to smell the heat on him and a blast of anti-perspirant. Walking towards him is like wading through syrup, everything is slow and unfocused, his vision skewed by arousal. He ducks his head down, tilting his chin to kiss Aaron’s mouth. Just once, slow and unfurling, and then pulls away.

Aaron’s lips are parted like he’s been stung and when he opens his eyes again, he looks up through dark lashes and tongues his bottom lip into his mouth, colour edging onto his face. It becomes a game. He unfolds his arms and leans back on them, all taut muscle and hot skin, hips pushed out and breaths rising at the surface of his chest. His joggers are soft enough that Robert can start to see the tease of his erection pushing through.

“I’m not working out for your benefit you know…” he says completely deadpan, his focus honed in on Robert’s mouth.

But Robert’s already picturing Aaron’s startled mouth, lips parted and wet.

“Really?” Robert says, pressing into his space again, laying the flat of his palms on Aaron’s chest and spreading out his fingertips. His thumbs scuff in sensitive circles across Aaron’s nipples, in a way that’s far too measured to be anything else but a deliberate ploy to unravel him.

“One of us has gotta keep in shape.”

He moves his hands to Aaron’s shoulders, caressing the smooth lines of muscles on his upper arms and trying to bite back his lust. Robert feels Aaron tense them under his hands but his face is impassive, feigning ignorance.

“It looks good on you. Really good.” He can hear himself, he knows what he sounds like – suffocated, desperate. Only Aaron could cause him to be so unguarded, so needy.

“Yeah?” Aaron says, gaze tracking down Robert’s body. He gestures with a flick of his head. “How good?”

It’s a little laugh of surprise that Robert makes through his nose, eyebrows raised, before the mood shifts back to that intense push-pull and Robert unbelts, unzips and steps out of his jeans, leaving Aaron to stare at the strain of his underwear. There’s a moment of face-off between them, eye contact and a smirk. Robert unbuttons his shirt and sways on his feet as Aaron’s unnervingly light touch reaches out to thumb the length of his cock through his briefs.  

“And the rest,” Aaron says once Robert’s shirt is off. He likes to do this once he’s got started, to stand back and watch. “Go on!”

There’s nothing like Aaron’s smile like this. It’s coy, warm eyes and stolen glances, teeth edging into his lip, tongue making a slow, slick appearance to tease for later. No one else gets to see this side of him, this flushed and focused longing. He’s not that gruff and sullen bloke they see around the village, he’s soft and sexy and makes Robert’s insides turn to liquid.

Robert takes off the last of his clothes, pulling Aaron towards him by the waist so his cock presses up against Aaron’s stomach.

“That good, eh?” Aaron says, teasing, looping one of his arms around Robert’s neck.

“You’ve _no_ idea.”

Aaron pushes a grunt-fuelled kiss against Robert’s mouth and Robert surrenders to the force of it, pulling Aaron away from the sink counter. His hands run over the curve of Aaron’s back, warm and firm, murmuring as Aaron’s tongue slides against his. They make it to the sofas in some sort of whirl, Robert’s hands digging past the waistband of Aaron’s gym bottoms and taking handfuls of him until he’s laid out flat and Aaron sits astride, muscled arms keeping him upright.

“Here?”

Aaron shrugs. “Here’s as good a place as any.” This bliss of having their own place to do this smarts in their laughter as they lean into another kiss, fingers raking through hair.

Aaron pushes his hand on Robert’s chest to flatten him and wraps his hand around Robert’s cock, pumping enough so that Robert’s eyes glaze and roll. Robert’s heart ricochets in his chest and he shudders, watching as Aaron grinds down his hips, body-to-body contact almost within reach. Those soft grey joggers darken in their pre-cum friction. All is good in the world. He grips them with his fist, pulling them away from Aaron’s body and blindly taking a grope at his cock.

Aaron swallows hard, hissing with it. “Not yet,” he says and rises up from Robert’s lap to strip. Robert takes over jerking himself off with one hand, trying to delay that hot pulse, and brushing Aaron’s cheek with the back of his other hand. He pushes the front of Aaron’s softened hair off his forehead and then loosens up entirely when Aaron’s completely bare on top of him and sitting, knees-spread and thighs solid, over his stomach.    

“You don’t normally give me this,” Robert says, slightly breathless, his cock touching the teasing cleft of Aaron’s arse. “You’re normally showered and knackered after the gym.”

“I took it easy today.”

“For this?”

“Might’ve.” He grins, leaning over him for a kiss. “Still feel kinda rank and sweaty though.”

“I still want to fuck you,” Robert says, pressing nose and mouth against Aaron’s cheek, his stubble giving and all too pleasurable scratch and burn. He feels Aaron’s hips shuffle backwards in a very deliberate push against his cock.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Aaron says, eyes widening in a sharp surprise when Robert gives his backside a short smack. “Are we just playing here or….?”

Robert runs his hands up Aaron’s dewy thighs, enjoying the ripples of muscle underneath, the weight of him and sits up to kiss the tops of Aaron’s biceps, to drag his teeth edges against the flaring skin. His arms tense and Robert looks down to see Aaron jerking off, eyes closed and face blissed out. It’s an unbearable sight in its intensity, with Aaron’s movements timed to perfectly rub up against him.

“You’re killing me,” Robert says, the words gritted out, pulling him into a kiss that makes the anticipation even more severe. Aaron drags the kiss into something slow and lazy, separating only to find his wallet and the slip of lube in his abandoned joggers.

“Fingers first, yeah?” Aaron says, breath sucked out of him, and Robert knows that look in his eyes well enough to know it’s a demand not a request. He likes that – eyes open, ragged breaths, Robert’s spare hand low on his balls.

His fingers are wet and glossy with spit and lube, pushing over Aaron’s rim and edging in circles, but it’s all Robert can do not to rush this. He could’ve happily pushed him roughly against the kitchen counters and pulled them both off in ten minutes flat, but he’s not going to waste the effort Aaron went to in foreplay just for some quick fix. Instead he watches every flicker on Aaron’s face, notices every slight hitch in breath until his body gives and Robert presses his finger inside of him.

His chest expands in the gulp of breath he takes, a layer of goosebumps infiltrating the smooth, post-gym sheen of his body. He’s still for a moment and then, clamping his grip on Robert’s shoulder, works his hips so he’s riding Robert’s finger and getting himself off. Robert’s cock twitches at the sight and he shakes his head to try and clear the fog of lust swelling inside him. Aaron doesn’t have to say words like harder or faster, Robert knows it – feels it – in every judder of his body.

Robert says _God_ and it comes out of him like a gasp, Aaron’s name fuzzy at the edges when he tries to say it. They don’t do pet names and like this he couldn’t imagine it, every murmur and groan sounding too base, too feral. He’s fired up and ready to fuck Aaron, ready for them to be one thudding body, but Aaron moves, clambers, making it clear he’s got other ideas.

He’s musty and hot and dark. Robert knew, by the feverish pulse of him, that it was _this_ that Aaron wanted first. Licked open, the rim of him slicked with saliva. Robert groans into him, letting his lips vibrate against the surface and flicking the tip of his tongue inside Aaron. He kisses him there, long and hard and wanting.

Aaron says _IloveyouIloveyou_ like it was only ever meant to be one, burning word. It steals breath from Robert’s lungs.

“Now?” he says, sounding pathetically close to begging. “Now?”

He has his hands around Aaron’s hips and pushes him backwards and waits out those agonising moments for Aaron to position himself, one hand on Robert’s shoulder and the other around his cock. He shudders, body clenching, Aaron tearing a laugh from him somewhere when they both match each other’s low pitched groan.

Aaron has an arm braced on the sofa for leverage, working his pelvis and blowing damp curls from his forehead, while Robert is ridden, white finger marks on Aaron’s ass cheeks and a sensation that his body is about to give way. He tries focusing on the concentration on Aaron’s face, the lines of his forehead and his eyelids that slip closed, not how he moves, how tight and how muscular he feels on top. He’s so beautiful like this; Robert runs his hands over him like he’s some sort of god.

Robert’s breaths grow shallow, caught in his throat. He’s so close he can feel it twisting inside.

“Hey, don’t even think about it,” Aaron says, half-grunted. Robert manages to smile, even with his eyes shut for a fleeting moment.

His head swims but it doesn’t take much to take Aaron over the edge. A few quick touches and a very purposeful thrust upwards – one foot planted on the sofa – and Aaron’s all his. A mess. A beautiful mess. Cum hot across their bodies and Robert holds his slumping frame upright, waits with all the expectation of an unlit match as Aaron eases off him and puts his mouth around him without a further word. It doesn’t take Robert long either. There’s no one that gives head like Aaron.

Afterwards they use Aaron’s discarded gym clothes to clean off and then Aaron climbs back on top of him, damp bodies elongated and flush together. Their hearts hammer from one body to the next, arms wrapped around each other.

“Better?” Aaron says.

“Huh?” Robert can barely think let alone speak.

“Work. You’ve been stressed.”

“How did you-“

“Kicking in your sleep. Impatient texts – which is pretty standard from you but….” Aaron’s voice is sort of muffled against Robert’s chest. “And I heard you from the hallway when I was coming in.”

“So all this was a, what, stress reliever?”

Aaron shrugged a little. Robert couldn’t see his expression but he was sure there was a little shyness in their somewhere. “The gym always makes me a bit…pumped, you know? But you’re not normally around after, but today I knew you were and…”

Robert laughs, pressing his mouth against Aaron’s head and running his hands down Aaron’s back. “Should’ve made that second bathroom into a home gym…”

Aaron scoffs. “Like we need an excuse.”

 


End file.
